Tuesday, March 21, 2017

One
of the sensations of being sure of yourself when you are young is that you are
cracker right of whatever you are, then, doing.Forty years later you are not so sure of your ‘back then’
but are very sure that, of these days, you are cracker right of whatever you
are, now, doing.And then there is
the Forty Year Spread.

The
Forty Year Spread is a cracker right doing back then that has persisted and is
a too, now and still, ‘a cracker right’, in and of, doing, NOW.“Bassa Peta”, for myself, is a ‘one of
those’.

“Bassa
Peta” is food.It is a meal that I
made and ate for myself over forty years ago.Periodically, over past four decades, the “Bassa Peta” was
and is made and served again to friends and family.It is a quick, stupid easy, ‘one pot’, controlled mess,
hardy and ‘always gets eaten’ (all of it) “MEAL”.It is a classic recipe that one may find anywhere.I have my own recipe copy, written in
my hand, forty years ago.

Continuing
with that last notice and sidestepping for a few paragraphs the “Bassa Peta” as
a ‘Mud Season Meal’ ‘Number Three’... I... and these ‘those they’... the hand
written personal recipe book and its their-these food to self messages:Do you have one?Have you written this “YOURS”?“You wrote that?” they say to me.I did.Do.Still
have.Still use.

THAT.All it is... is a junky plastic
notebook that I write down any ole“I made” recipe that I, by happenstance, do, make, think of, remember
or... as a Viking vessel sailed the sea... did that:I use that:My
own recipe book.I wrote it
“down”, page after page.You
should too; it is a ‘your life’; your own ‘food life’.

The
rare book world; rare antiquarian books and I as a ‘dealer’ of them, know
(understand) full well the appreciation and value of these old ‘hand written’
‘cook books’... found by flashlight on the attic floor... dutifully recording a
marginally literate record of a ‘her recipes’... and little more.

These
old books are usually the all of the author ever ‘written down’. Yes and ‘there we go’; they are
precious.And some... may be found
to be ‘quite well done’ ‘a good read’ and, of course, again and too, be...
precious.So it is easy to
understand a forty year manuscript notebook of recipes begun in 1814 and ‘died
out’ (last entry) 1851.The last
entry is for “TOAST” while the first recipe is for... raspberry jam.A complete life circle?Seems so to me.

Once
one is clued to these “THESE” their precious magic is... IN YOUR OWN HAND;
their book, or... your book, YOUR HAND writing.It very well could be the only ‘old manuscript’ you ever
‘make’ about ‘anything’.You can
do this.Most “do not”.

My
recipe book may be opened to “Bassa Peta”; a shortened and misspelled
title?NO IT IS INTENTIONALLY
“that way written”.That is my
recipe book’s style.YOUR book
will have YOUR style.Anyway;
opened to Bassa Peta:I don’t need
to open the book for the “TO MAKE THAT” recipe.And, as I mentioned, you can look “IT” up (similar recipes)
“ON LINE” too.The “Bassa Peta” recipe
title is correctly spelled Kielbasa (sausage) on Pita (bread) made with a quart
of sauerkraut ‘very important’ too.The sauerkraut is the point of the recipe while the ‘Bassa’ and ‘Peta’
are cosmetic.They ‘vary in
quality’ as ‘cosmetic’.The kraut
varies in quality as ‘the point’ (“good kraut”).Okay this means that the Bassa may be any ole box store
grocery prepared meat cooler dive bassa OR, as in this case, it may be Maine
Fashion Forward Lisbon Maine made Sausage Kitchen’s premium Kielbasa.GO SHOP AT THEIR Lisbon STORE (factory)
for this ‘buy local’ choice.The
same for the Kraut; shop for box store brands in the pickle jar cooler
‘selections’ or... shop for Maine’s “BEST” Morse’s Sauerkraut from their
Washington, Maine GO SHOP AT THEIR (‘in the middle of No Where’) Waldoboro Road
STORE (factory) ‘buy local’ premium choice.

Make
the ‘petas’ yourself.Yes... you
do need to get that third world global culture bread ‘under your baker’s
apron’.

The
pita process, once your oven and (cast iron) griddle plate are “HOT” (very,
very hot)... and your rolling pin is rolling... an... ‘about two minutes’
each... ten pitas in thirty minutes... event.It is an event.Rolling, griddling, flipping and stacking with a whole lot of oven door
opening and closing... you are done in thirty minutes and rewarded with a stack
of ten towel wrapped warm “PITAS” “I MADE”.Once one engages ‘how simple this is’, one has both awe and
pride at “making my own pitas’.Leave them wrapped in the towel and now “MAKE” their filling.

That
takes, like... maybe... twenty minutes... using the stove top and a larger and
deeper (cast iron) skillet.A
touch of olive oil and then add every component in order starting with a light
stir fry of the onions and peppers.Add the (thinner than one quarter inch sliced) bassa.Stir (lightly ‘hot through’) fry that
in a bit.Add the drained quart of
kraut... stir in and careful not too hot now.Add ½ cup of sour cream.Or even lighter handed on that (1/3 cup).Two tbs prepared mustard (of any ‘your
choice’).Heat whole mixture
lightly through.Serve from pan by
spooning onto your pita and ‘fold over’.You are done.Eat it; each
serving themselves.Leftover?Fine if any is leftover.“We’ll make this again (real) soon” is
the usual end-of-meal-status.

Remember:It is mud season.It is still ‘too cold’, too wet, too
much snow, ‘no melting’ requiring boots, gloves, hats, (jackets in) ‘layers’
and... Mud Season farm yards and its ‘yard work’... make a hungry man.That’s what Bassa Peta is for:It is a Mud Season Meal.

IF
you make twenty meatballs (3 ½ pounds of ‘a dollar off second day’ stickered
box store grocery ‘ground beef’) and buy a two pound box of box store grocery
brand ‘regular’ (thickness) spaghetti... “I ah”... ‘think the job gets done’
(and is ‘Maine Gourmet’; ‘Maine Fashion’).IF it is four meatballs eaten a meal that’s five meals with
ALL the pasta eaten and... don’t forget (to grate from the one pound block) the
‘cheese’ (so titled in Maine).That... should not be ‘cheese’.It should be Reggiano Parmesan... ‘cheese’.One can get that in Maine now.

“DIDN’T
USED TO BE ABLE TO GET THAT”

“IN
MAINE”.

“YOU
KNOW”.

I
know.

Can
you remember when Maine was like that.

I
do.

I
wore my “BEAN BOOTS” across the yard this morning; I could walk on top of the
mud.It’s been so cold.They changed the time (Daylight Savings
Time) so it's dark again in my morning.I don’t like that; ‘don’t NEED it’.I’m tired of ‘swamping’ in the dark; Mud Season in the
dark.We was just getting a little
light.Made it manageable.Out there on top of the stiff (frozen)
mud.“Yep.” to that.

I
didn’t want to start the truck yet; it’s still too dark.“Something’s at the birdfeeder” I was
told.“Porcupine” I
explained.Big fat old Porcupine...
lives under the shed.Been
climbing all the cedars down off the wet corner of the back pasture.To get something to eat.

He’s
not getting my meat balls.

The
meatballs are made of a “light” version of “her meatloaf mix” (add breadcrumbs,
onions, garlic, parsley, salt pepper and ‘any old spices’ those being ‘bottled
(Worchester Sauce) or dry”.NOT
anything or amount that’s foolish.Ball ‘em up by hand and set them on a tray (to show them off).Four rows of five; twenty...
meatballs.Then the fun begins:

“Fitting
them in” the stove top tub of homemade sauce (the ‘canned’ tomatoes are “OURS”
from “LAST YEAR”.“Still HAVE
onions down cell-ah”.Etcetera.Put the meatballs
into the sauce.Keep putting
them in until it gets tight and then fit them in and... start bellowing that
they “won’t fit”.Keep going.Keep bellowing but don’t do anything
stupid.It is Mud Season.“LAST TIME THERE WERE ONLY EIGHTEEN
(meatballs).”

Monday, March 6, 2017

The
‘retro-fitted’ ‘minimalist’ ‘expression’ is junk.Your junk.Just
face it:It is junk.Even the stuff you claim you don’t have
that you are keeping to refit and bring back at anytime as the searing; the
abundance of junk that you claim you don’t have because you are minimally
assorted with your ‘only old junk’ that you didn’t buy anyway.Unless it is what you call ‘a good
buy’.This is better viewed as a
‘good bye’.

That
is really what it is; nothing that you ever did yourself.AND you claim that you ‘clean up’
too.That must be an obstacle; the
looking at what you do not keep because you minimally retro-fitted this those
of what’s left of what you have to not keep; a ‘that anymore too’.

It
is really so well thought out isn’t it.Or... is it... “aren’t you”.

I
believe it is worded as ‘empty’.

Just
turn around and go back.It is
right that this is a wrong direction for you; stepping stones across that you
must find out about yourself and study before you may relish.

“Just
put flowers in it and set it on a table”Your mother always hinted that was the way to show “what an idiot you
are”.She was blunt.Right?So then don’t put it out with flowers in it.“Don’t eat with a spoon.Eat with a fork.”You remember that.Don’t you.You didn’t have a mute button then did you.So now she’s dead and you threw her
things out.“Donated” you called
that.All except for a few things
that you are now calling “kept”.Of course you don’t know where those are. “Out in the garage”.Yes:There we go.Your thing is just “the Faberge Egg” of what you retro-fitted minimalist
boxed up and stacked back there where she (your mother) now resides in the
boxes of ‘her stuff’ you made for her.“Tea Time” doesn’t happen anymore with her.You donated the tea service and someone else IS using it
“anymore”.Remember that (the tea
service)?You were only six and
learned to pick up sugar cubes using American Coin Silver Sugar Tongs.That last part you ‘didn’t get’.“What ever happened to those (tongs)
anyway?”Yes:That is a question you need to ask
about a lot of the junk you didn’t keep ‘anyway’.

Go
way back in your dreams to find the proper style you lost from your
retro-minimal wreck.Dreams:The (commuter) Club Car.The Tobacco.The Suits.The
Old Money.That last is the
style.You find it; two
words.CAN you find it.Do you still have it?Or did you ‘donate it’ (“throw it
out”).Remember:It was all ‘just the way he left it’.That day.When you began to destroy it.And destroy your self:Minimal.Empty.That was his room.“Office” the family called it.At dinner time he came out of
there.The door was never
closed.It was full of tobacco
smoke.And always:“What a mess”.

He
kept things in corners and pushed back against the walls.Old tables with leaves up covered in
reckless arrangements of... yes say it:You see it now in your dreams...:Old Money.It was his
style.He never wore sandals.He never went to a mall.

Ashtray.Still dirty after all these years; pipe
tobacco leavings.No one washed
it.He used it last.You threw it out.“NO:I donated it”.You say.You are pushed
back against the wall?The chest
of drawers there; against the wall.Yes that one; it is buried there.It is New England (made).Boston area.Seventeen
eighties.Old surface.Old hardware.Never cleaned.Always used.Five generations?No... longer... Seven generations.Pushed back against the wall.He used it at Harvard.He used it the day he died.The top drawer was all pipes.And tobacco.Look at the generational dirty bottoms of the drawers
(“drawer bottoms”).And the
fingernail marks (on the back of the drawer fronts) where he pulled it open
further.Then pushed the drawer
back “in”.Never closed.The bottom drawer has everything he did
at Swarthmore still in it.No:You ‘cleaned that out’
and ‘donated it’?The chest is
empty when you showed me the room.Pushed back against the wall.But too:All from the
drawers... is still on the floor.“Let us put that (the drawer contents) back in” (the bottom drawer) I
say.We do.Together we put as much of it (the old
money) back as I possibly can.Then:

I
buy ‘the whole room’ (contents of the room; ‘the office’).I know what it is and what I am
doing.I am buying your old money.You are selling old money.That should be your style.Now that you’re pushed back against the
wall you do see that don’t you.You could have kept “the things in it”.You could have ‘just the way he left it’.When I come back on Saturday, to ‘clean
the garage’, you show me the room with the white wicker table you “painted” and
“brought in”.You do not mention
the glass vase with the flowers in it.“Oh” you say.“It (the
vase) is almost empty; I need to put some more water in it.”

“I’ll
start working (on removing your mother) out in the garage.”

I
don’t know what happened to the old chest after I filled it with my clutters
and pushed it back against a wall.I didn’t get the drawers to close well.I do remember that.Why?I know why.The old chest has all of its original
(1780) drawer runners; the wooden slats that the drawers slide on (“run on”;
“drawer runner”).They are worn to
‘bee-Jesus’ but still work in addition to being ‘still there’.I pulled one out to show it off; the
four original handmade iron tacks.The ‘outrageous wear’.Only
a (American Federal Period antiques) collector would care.

All my old chests are that way...
anyway.Have to be... for
collectors of American Federal Furniture.Again:Have to be... they
do care.Then one of them wanted
to buy it.“I’m thinking about
that” he said.“I’m thinking about
that too.” I said.“It came down
in my family”.“My father used it
at Harvard”.“He kept full of all
his clutters and pushed back against the wall of his office.”“Men do that you know; keep their
clutters pushed back against the wall”.

“It
appears to be a fine early chest”.

“The
family had money back then:

It’s
untouched; just the way it’s come down through time”.

“My
wife wouldn’t like it; the drawers don’t work she’d say.Dirty too.She’d have to have it cleaned”

“Yes:
The old money... don’t I just.My
father was in World War Two.My
grandfather was in World War One.My great grandfather rode with Teddy; I still have his papers in a
box.My great, great, great
grandfather was brevet a general in the Civil War.Then he invented a machine that knitted women’s
stocking.Our family has been in
the bank ever since.Now that is
old money.Isn’t it?

“These
days it will pass”.

“I
have the family silver.”

“I
should sell you a silver chest”.

“No
need; we use it all the time.”

It
is a style.It is not supposed to
be pretty.If you make it a style
and try to make it pretty... you effect and fall short:There is not enough money to fake it
(effect and fall short); not enough ‘old money’.No.It is a
much more comprehensive style than first thought of.Most of it is seen full bloom the moment before it is thrown
out.“Completely there” for just a
moment then... thrown out.Every
little bit of it.I know of what I
write.I have pulled out the chest
drawers, starting with the top drawer, and ‘dumped’ the contents into
boxes.Then neatly marked the box
“top drawer chest office”.Or
such.I take the boxes.I take the chest.

Later;
back against the wall, I restore the chest.I open the boxes and carefully return the contents to the
proper drawers.I push the drawers
in; not ‘closed’.Again; the chest
is pushed back against the wall.Shortly, it is buried there in my clutters.I never clean it up or throw ‘it’ out (the chest or my
clutters).It all lives with me...
that way; the way he left it.Pipes and tobacco in the top drawer.The mother in her boxes from the back of the garage.“Isn’t that an awful thing to do to
your mother!”:Stack her up at the
back of her garage.And sell her.“MY GOD HOW COULD YOU”.

Oh
come on:It is just old money...
being destroyed.By retro-fitted
minimalist... good sense that is just as absolutely empty of any sense of any
thing of anyone in anyway once pushed back against the walls but now “cleaned
up” and thrown out (“donated”) with a box store’s ‘wicker’ table painted white
and a vase of flowers that has had the water for the flowers “run out”.You said.

About Me

This blog is about northern New England antiques and rare books. It is stories, vignettes and profiles of objects and stories of buying and selling these things. Most of the featured items, the settings and the stories are about traditional and classic New England antiques and rare books from before the Civil War.